Elegantly Stated
by Lyrikkal
Summary: [Chapter2: Enrique has an admirer?] A series of pointless Majestics centric oneshots written in alternating POVs.
1. Debate

**Elegantly Stated  
**A series of pointless Majestics-centric one-shots written in alternating POVs.

**- - -**

**Chapter One: Debate  
****POV: Johnny**

- - -

It's funny how some people have such high expectations for us.

They think that every spare second we have is spent discussing the latest European politics, boasting of our impressive lineages (okay, so Robert does do that kinda often...), and dissing the bourgeoisie.

We're teenage boys, for crying out loud. Not old bald men in stuffy suits and ugly ties. (Those would be our butlers.) We - believe it or not - like to have fun. But one of the ways we like to amuse ourselves, I admit, is a little... odd.

We wonder about Oliver's sexual orientation.

- - -

I'm not sure how it started. It was probably on one of those days when we were waiting, our stomachs growling, while Oliver was in the kitchen of Jurgen castle cooking up some amazing and unnecessary feast. But somehow, over time, it's become our little game, one that picks up whenever Oliver is out of earshot and the rest of us are bored.

"Look," I start out of nowhere. "Even the way he walks is queer."

We're sitting in an expensive cafe in Paris, and Oliver has just been called to the kitchen by a frantic chef who asked for the kid's 'expertise.' Robert and Enrique follow my gaze and watch Oliver's fluent and graceful steps as he disappears through a set of swinging doors.

"So his gait is a bit effeminate. What else is new?" Enrique asks, smothering a yawn that I'm sure is fake.

"He drives his bloody blimp all the way to Rome to visit you!" I say, exasperated. "And he almost always interrupts your little dates. Obviously, he's jealous."

Enrique looks thoughtful. That's a rare sight. "He does go out of his way to talk to me sometimes.. but he IS my best friend. And hey, what can I say? The ladies love me. It's hard NOT to catch me on a date."

I roll my eyes. That pig-headed idiot...

"I still believe that you're jumping to conclusions, Johnny, as is your customary habit," Robert chimes in, a cup of tea in his hands.

"Oh, don't give me that bull again. He's gay and you know it," I push. "I mean, look at the evidence! He cooks, he practically lives in museums, he does that flower thingy when he launches his _pink_ beyblade, and now he's hitting on Enrique. He's the LIVING EMBODIMENT OF THE GAY STEREOTYPE!"

Needless to say, I am a hardcore supporter of the Oliver-is-Obviously-Gay-Theory. Jumping to conclusions? Me? Pah!

"Who says stereotypes are accurate?" Robert bristles. Some poor dummy actually tried to pull the whole Germans equal Nazis thing on Rob once, and I guess he never got over it. I ignore him and continue.

"Also, he's disgustingly feminine, small-framed, soft-skinned, and-"

"Attractive?"

"Yeah, and-"

I stop, mid-sentence, realizing my blunder. Enrique and Robert slap their hands in a high-five. Robert has this messed up grin on his face- probably from holding in a huge degrading laugh. I glare at them, thinking of brutal ways to wipe that smirk off of Tornatore's face...

They're still snickering at me when Oliver comes back.

"Pas de quoi, " he's saying over his shoulder to an apron-garbed man who looks ready to worship our teammate. He then tucks a strand of green hair behind his ear - 'girly!' my head shouts - and sits back down to join us. I see a few guys over at that other table checking him out. They probably think he's a girl.

"So, what did I miss?" he asks.

"Nothing," we nonchalantly say in unison, and life goes on.

But the next time he's gone, I have something else to say.

"What if Oliver's a girl?"

- - -

**Notes:  
**First- Um. Wow. I wrote in first person AND in present tense. That was odd. Let's see if I can keep it up.  
Second - I do not necessarily agree with Johnny's views. So if you disagreed with him, I probably agreed with you. :)  
Third - Review please!

**-Lyrikkal**


	2. Valentine

**Elegantly Stated  
**A series of pointless Majestics-centric one-shots written in alternating POVs.

- - -

Thanks everyone who reviewed last time. I love you guys--!

The Yaoi Mistress - I haven't read the manga, but I heard that Enrique and Oliver didn't make too many appearances in it.. and that Oliver was a boy. Even so, I like the Enrique x girl!Oliver pairing too. xD

aries1391 - There's nothing wrong... Johnny's just silly. Teehee.

- - -

**Chapter two: Valentine  
****POV: Enrique**

- - -

I have never really been a big fan of winter. Sure, Christmas is nice, and so are the girls at ski resorts, but it's just not the same as those sunny summer days when I can take my yacht out to sea...

(The fact that girls tend to be more scantily clad during the summer has nothing to do with it, I swear.)

Nevertheless, I can't help but become a bit more high-spirited once February comes along. Not because it means spring is coming at last, (thank Lord it's skirt season,) but because... well, take a guess.

Yeah, that's right.

I love Valentine's day.

- - -

The fourteenth of February this year started out just like every other one. I strolled downstairs in the morning to find heaps of gifts - pink, frilled, sweet-smelling gifts - waiting for me in the foyer. Excitedly, I grabbed one from the top of the stack and sat down on a leather armchair.

'To my sexay Enrique-poo,' the tag on the heart-shaped box said in loopy cursive. 'From Rosetta with luv.' It was followed by a ridiculous numbers of X's and O's. (Girls have way too much time on their hands, but hey, I'm not complaining!)

I struggled with the pink ribbon for a moment before slipping it off of the box. I opened the lid and took a whiff. Mmm. Chocolates. I popped one in my mouth and set the rest aside.

I worked my way through the rest of the pile diligently, all the while munching on various goodies. Oliver had sent me some amazing pastries, no doubt his own handiwork, decorated with frosting roses and all. (And he wonders why we tease him about being girly...) I got a few more boxes of chocolates and assorted candies from Elena and Gemma and this one redhead whose name I just forgot again, a few flowers, a teddy bear from Bianca ('Her name is Little Bianca! When you sleep with her at night, you can pretend it's me!' I shuddered a bit.), a postcard from Marietta, at least a dozen letters...

- - -

By now I'm pretty satisfied, pampered with all these gifts. But I notice that there's still one more package left unopened, looking rather plain in comparison to the others. It's an unlabelled brown box. Curious, I pick it up and start tearing the paper.

I blink.

I stare.

It's... hideous. I think it's supposed to be a heart, but it looks more like a pink potato. Obviously, whoever tried to cut it out has no skill whatsoever in using a pair of scissors. Didn't they ever go to kindergarten? But more than the messed up shape of the card, (I think it's a card,) it's the writing that catches my eye, scrawled in bold and messy black print. I have to squint to read it.

'Roses are red.  
Violets are blue.  
I think you're hot.  
Do you love me too?

Will you be my Valentine?  
To Enrique.  
From Johnny.'

I'm kinda scared now.

Johnny? Johnny McGregor, Johnny? What?

I'm still sitting here, rather confused, when all of a sudden the door opens and two people burst in. I recognize them instantly.

"Aww, come on, Johnny. You're not going to back out now, are you?" Oliver blocks the furious Scot's path with a cute, teasing smile.

"Shut up, Bohringer!" he responds, angrily stomping around our smaller friend. He walks right up to me and snatches the.. er.. valentine out of my hands.

"You never saw this," he hisses violently, lavender eyes gleaming with fury. He shoves past Oliver and is gone.

I'm still very, very confused. "Uh... what just happened?"

Oliver smiles at me guiltily. "Heh heh. Don't worry about it. Robert and I were just kidding around..."

"Oliver," I start sternly. I want an explanation, dammit!

He grins and pulls out a few photos from his pocket. "It's this little game we call blackmailing..."

We spend the rest of the afternoon laughing our heads off.

- - -

So as I said. I love Valentine's day.

- - -

**Notes:**

First - I enjoy portraying Enrique as a materialistic playboy. Somehow, he still manages to be cute that way. (In my head anyway. Haha.)

Second - Please excuse any cultural inaccuracies. Valentine's day probably isn't as much of a commercial holiday over in Europe as it is in the US, but.. oh well.

Third - Gahhh. It's 1:43 in the morning. My writing ability is deterioratinggg. Sorry for the abrupt ending. Interpret as you want. (And please review. :))

**-Lyrikkal**


End file.
